


Downtime

by Zilchtastic



Series: Instances and Urges [1]
Category: Cal Leandros - Thurman
Genre: Crack, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-06
Updated: 2010-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-07 02:08:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zilchtastic/pseuds/Zilchtastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You'd think I'd be used to naked people following Robin around like an oversexed cloud by now, but orgies just aren't something you see outside of Pay-Per-View on a regular basis, so it was always faintly shocking. I swept the room visually, trying not to let my eyes fall on any particular groupings. Or positions. Or... parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Downtime

**Author's Note:**

> I may be the only one who finds this pairing both fun AND hilarious? Alack and alas. It's not my OTP-- just something I like to play around with for kicks.

"This scene is getting way too familiar for comfort," I muttered under my breath as I stood frozen in the open doorway.

You'd think I'd be used to naked people following Robin around like an oversexed cloud by now, but orgies just aren't something you see outside of Pay-Per-View on a regular basis, so it was always faintly shocking. I swept the room visually, trying not to let my eyes fall on any particular groupings. Or positions. Or... parts.

Music throbbed its way from an expensive-looking piece of stereo equipment in the corner, something dark and heavy and almost hypnotic. Yelling over the noise wasn't really an option. I braced myself and then stepped over the threshold and into the mayhem.

Robin was at the epicenter, or maybe it was the eye of the hurricane from which the rutting maelstrom spun. He was lounging on a wide, overstuffed couch, although "lounging" implies there wasn't much going on, and there was. I tore my eyes away from the blonde head bobbing in his lap and felt the slow burn creeping up my neck make it all the way to the tips of my ears. Someone else draped themself over the back of the couch, licking a trail down Robin's neck, lingering there like you'd do with a half-melted ice cream cone where every drop is too good to waste.

Damned if someone wasn't going to owe me for this one.

I made my way reluctantly over to the couch, avoiding the sprawling of limbs and the puddles of-- No, no way was I even going to _think_ about what I was stepping over. These boots were _new_, dammit. I made a mental note to charge Goodfellow for my next shoeshine as I dodged and weaved my way through the crowd. Everything smelled of incense, sweat, and sex, with a faint underlay of leather. _Jesus H._

"Robin." I couldn't even hear my _own_ voice over the damned music. "Hey, Loman!"

The woman-- no, wait, that was a _guy_, a guy in more eyeliner than most drugstores even stock at one time-- sucking on Robin's neck gave me a heavy, incurious stare as I leaned over to give the puck a quick shake to the shoulder. Robin's eyes slid open on a languid out-breath, his gaze unfocused and his pupils blown wide, making them look hot and dark.

I swallowed hard as they turned to focus on _me_, because I wasn't used to getting that kind of look from another _guy_, even if this was only the aftertaste.

It took a second for it to register-- Goodfellow's eyes widened just a touch as he figured out just who was standing over him-- but the moment of embarrassment you'd expect out of any _normal_ person never manifested. His eyes went right back to heavy-lidded and his smirk hit about a nine on the Richter scale.

"We've got to _go_," I tried to yell, hoping he could read lips. I motioned meaningfully in the direction of the door and tried my best to keep my eyes on his _face_. That blonde head was still moving down there, and from the way Robin's hips had begun hitching up, I was guessing she was doing a pretty swell job. _Don't look don't look don't--_

I was so busy averting my eyes without _trying_ to avert my eyes that I never saw Robin's hand reach out until it was closing around my wrist. _Clumsy_, I could hear Niko tsk in the back of my head. Not that I was worried Robin was about to attack me or anything--

"What the--" Okay, so color me absolutely wrong. Robin grinned as he gave me a sharp tug, and I was off-balance enough that I had to catch myself with one hand digging into the back of the couch. His free hand slid up to brush my cheek for a second before burying itself in my hair to drag me close. Close enough to stare into his dark-forest eyes. Close enough to smell his wood-spice cologne. Close enough to... kiss.

_What the hell_ I wanted to say, but I never got the chance. He reeled me in and I gaped at him, stupidly, and let him do it. When his lips brushed mine, just a soft warm touch, I felt myself go hot all over, electric-tingling, like someone had just plugged me in and cranked me all the way to eleven.

He tilted his head, deliberately angling, and I didn't even try to stop him. It didn't even occur to me. You can complain about the rain, but what can you do about it? Rain does what it does, and apparently so did Robin Goodfellow.

The kiss was gentle at first, slow and exploratory, warm and only a little wet. I was grateful for the throbbing beat of the music-- it covered up the pounding of my heart, the tiny moans I couldn't stop myself from making, because... Because this was _Robin_, and a guy, and my _friend_, and I wasn't letting him kiss me. I was fucking kissing him _back._

He _hummed_ against my lips, expression pleased as he drew back a bare inch. Then his fingers tightened in my hair and I was suddenly getting the Full Goodfellow Experience. I shuddered as his tongue slid into my mouth, shuddered and opened for him and let him do it, let him take me. Shit, what the hell was I _doing_? Even better question: Why did it feel so _good_? I closed my eyes, sank into the kiss. Maybe if I chased it all the way down, I'd figure it out.

Robin licked at my teeth, pulled back enough to bite my lower lip, sucking at it. It felt dirty as hell-- dirty and perfect, wrong and amazing. Wasn't that Goodfellow to a T? I licked out, catching the warm wetness of his tongue, his mouth, and then he was tugging me down again, kissing me like it was the best thing he'd ever done in his life, like he couldn't possibly get enough. And that was Robin to a T as well-- he never could get enough, could he?

He let go of my wrist-- either trusting that I'd stay there or trusting that I wouldn't notice-- and slid the now-free hand from the hollow of my throat down to the waistband of my jeans. His fingers hovered there, feather-light, teasing at the button and then sliding away only to hedge back again. My hips jerked, mindlessly, and I could feel him smiling into the kiss. _Triumph. Victory._ I could feel it in his touch. I could feel it in my cock where it strained hard and hot and already wet at the front of my jeans.

Holy shit.

I jerked back, breathing hard, feeling like I'd just been hit with a cattle prod. Robin looked a little dazed, too, which was unexpected. Less unexpected was the fact that we'd apparently attracted an audience, despite the myriad distractions a modern orgy can offer. The blonde on her knees wasn't even sucking him anymore, staring up at us with wide eyes and parted lips fucked pink and wet. She hadn't finished him, and I stared at him-- _all_ of him-- with something hot and sharp racing along my insides, something confused and repulsed and attracted all at once. I wanted to run like hell, run and never look back. I wanted to push the blonde out of the way, drop to my knees, and--

I grabbed him by the arm, yanked him bodily off the couch, dragged him out into the hall and slammed the door shut behind us.

Outside in the hallway it was cooler, quieter. The smell of sex and smoke and Robin stuck to me like a cloud, and I leaned against the wall, trying to breathe. The carpeting at my feet was pale and new-looking, with a tasteful pattern of ivy along the borders. I focused on it, counting the leaves until my heart had stopped jackhammering and I could think past the haze in my head.

"You alright?" I wasn't sure how anyone could sound ineffably smug and concerned at the same time, but Robin was managing it.

I looked over at where he leaned against the opposite wall-- and then looked away so fast it made me dizzy. _Still hard. Christ._ "Jesus," I said out loud, "would you put that thing away? It might go off."

I could hear the grin in his voice even if I couldn't see it. "It might, and whose fault would that be?"

I could feel heat creeping up the back of my neck like a replay. "Just... shut up." I had to be about a million different shades of red right now.

Robin snorted. "I'll never understand these ridiculous hang-ups of yours, Caliban."

_Hang-ups?_ I did stare at him now, so he'd get the full effect of my are-you-shitting-me look. "We just... We just _made out_," I said, and even to me my voice sounded strained, "in front of an entire _room_ full of people."

"That's kind of the point, yes." His mouth tilted up on one side and his eyes were pure sly wickedness.

"Yeah, but--" I choked on the words. How do you explain things like modesty and boundaries to a puck?

Robin sighed, mock-regretful as he shook his head. "Cal, Cal, it's things like this that make me worry about you."

"That what?"

He sauntered forward, and I suddenly had to find a new place to put my eyes-- somewhere, _anywhere_ but on _him_. He swayed close, so close that I could feel the tingling line of his warmth right through my clothes--

\--and then he patted me on the shoulder, reassuringly. "You need to get laid more often," he said, tone just a sliver away from laughter. "Now, if you'll allow me to go get my pants...?"

"Fuck you," I said, shoving him good-naturedly as something tight unwound in my gut at last. "Pervert."

From the corner of my eye I saw him cock one hip, his hand on the doorknob. "Takes one to know one, doesn't it?" he said, archly, and then he was disappearing back into the fray once more.

_Takes one to know one._ Yeah, I guess it does.


End file.
